


Call me a pegasus knight, coz I can be your WINGman

by kowaidesuka



Category: Fire Emblem Echoes: Mou Hitori no Eiyuu Ou | Fire Emblem Echoes: Shadows of Valentia, Fire Emblem Series
Genre: Alm and Berkut grew up together, Alm knows he's royal, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Berkut is less of a dick, Celica's family is less dysfunctional, F/M, Kid Fic, No Village kids, Only royals and nobles, Rudolph doesn't have a crazy plan, Think Gossip Girl but more wholesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2018-12-15
Packaged: 2019-09-18 17:04:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16999041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kowaidesuka/pseuds/kowaidesuka
Summary: Shy little Prince Berkut, age 7, would do anything to get his friend Rinea to like him back. Luckily he had his more adventurous cousin Alm to help him get the girl. Riding a horse like a noble knight into battle wouldn't be that hard, right?AU where Berkut and Alm grew up together and act on their dumb kid urges.





	Call me a pegasus knight, coz I can be your WINGman

**Author's Note:**

> Imagine primary school Berkut coming home after a nit infestation all traumatised and being like “NOTHING BUT LICE. LICE LICE LICE LICE LICE.”
> 
> Anyway this is inspired by that one piece of Echoes trivia where Berkut cried when he first started riding a horse. 
> 
> https://kantopia.wordpress.com/2018/04/26/fe-sov-valentia-accordion-page-118-berkut-profile-translation/
> 
> This is set in a world where Rudolf doesn’t decide to make a weird plan to commit seppuku by his own son’s hand and Alm lives and grows up like a royal, alongside his older cousin Berkut. Celica as well because reasons. RIP Ram Villagers I guess.

Tiny hands reached up, stretching in vain to pull at the gate latch. The green haired child pouted, hopping up and down to reach his target. Berkut looked at his energetic cousin and sighed, stepping up to the gate. In one smooth motion, he stood on his tiptoes and flicked at the latch. As soon as the gate swung open, Alm tugged at his arm and rushed in, laughing, “Nice one, Berkut!”

“Oy, hey, slow down! You’re gonna scare them.” Berkut planted his feet firmly, eying the horses warily. Fortunately they didn’t seem to mind the two boys causing a ruckus, and stared into space while munching their morning hay. A few of the spaces were empty, he noted. Most likely from Uncle and Grandpapa doing their morning training. Alm paced about the stables, muttering to himself. Berkut could occasionally make out a remark, like “No, definitely not...” and “...too short, he won’t do”, and a bewildering “ _definitely_ not a _girl_ horse”.

“Um. What exactly are you looking for?” the brunet boy asked, still hovering anxiously near the doorway. As one of the valiant princes of the Rigelian empire, Berkut should scoff in the face of danger, facing challenges head-on. As a seven-year-old child, however, he could admit that he was a little scared to approach the large steeds.

“The perfect steed for you, of course!” his smaller cousin beamed at him. “Remember how it’s Grandpapa’s birthday coming up soon? And Father asked us not to go in the kitchens and dis-stir the cooks?” 

“Disturb,” Berkut corrected quietly.

“And then we went there anyway? And oh gods, those cream tarts were delicious! But then before Cook chased us out we saw that list? And Celica is gonna be there!” Alm’s eyes lit up. “And also Conrad, and Clair, and her brother and her parents! And Lukas and his brother! And you know who else? _Ri-ne-a!_ ” He drew out the last word in a teasing cadence.

“R-Rinea… here?” Berkut’s cheeks suddenly warmed. “So what?”

“Sooo,” Alm drawled out impatiently. “Like everyone is telling Clive with that lady he likes, you need to tie her down!”

“Er… what?”

“Tie her down! I heard Lukas’ brother and Clair’s dad talking about it with him.”

Berkut frowned. “But… don’t you need rope for that and not a horse?”

“That’s what I thought too,” Alm replied. “But then I asked Clair about it and she called me a fool. And then I told her you like Rinea-”

“Excuse me, _what?!_ ” the elder prince yelled, indignant. His cheeks could not be redder.

“Calm down, princess,” his cousin giggled. “Clair can keep a secret. She said ladies were good at being diss-creet. Anyway she went on about a bunch of things that Clive did for that blonde lady that she called roe-man-tick, which I found kinda icky, like picking flowers, and dancing-” Berkut frowned at this. Dancing was fun! And he enjoyed seeing Rinea skip around the garden when no one else but he was watching. “- and also writing letters seemed pretty boring and using the wax seal when it’s hot hurts. But she also said Clive one time rode around on a madge-stick steed!”

“... Majestic?” 

“Yeah, yeah, same thing.” Alm waved his hand. “So I think what she meant was the biggest, manliest one.” He swivelled suddenly and pointed in the corner. “Aha! How could I not think of Massena’s horse, Embarr?”

Berkut turned to where he was pointing and balked. That creature was huge. Tall and back as the night, save for the dark brown of his mane and tail. As if noticing the boys’ stares, he suddenly turned to them and snorted loudly. Berkut took a step back instinctively. 

“Come on Berkut, up!” Alm pushed at him from behind. “Let’s go get your girl.”

“Alm, I really don’t think this is a good idea.”

“Don’t be a scaredy-cat!”

“No, really. I mean for one thing, Embarr isn’t mine! I can’t just take Uncle’s guard’s horse.”

“We’re the crown princes of Rigel, _everything under the sun is ours_ ,” the smaller boy grinned.

“That’s not how it works, and you know it.” Berkut never felt good when those words were repeated back to him by people like his mother, behind closed doors, or Uncle’s advisor Nuibaba, when she was observing the pair from her spot in the shadows. 

“Yeah…” his cousin frowned. “But I’m sure it’s okay if we borrow him for like five minutes? Massena likes us and he likes Rinea. If this works, Rinea can be part of our family!”

‘I can’t believe I’m considering this,’ Berkut thought to himself. “Are you sure it’ll impress her? It will be manly and roe-man-tick?” He stared down, unsure, wringing his fingers.

“Of course! Here, lemme help boost you.” Together the boys pushed a bale of hay closer, pausing to open the partition door and heaving it over the threshold. Embarr immediately turned to munch on the bale. “No, Embarr, no!” Alm frowned. “It’s okay, I’ll get down on the floor and you can jump from on my back, okay?”

Clumsily and through a good two minutes of maneuvering, Berkut managed to mount after leaving a muddy shoe-print on the back of Alm’s tunic. Both boys were huffing, but grinned at each other. “Thank you for this, Alm,” Berkut said softly. “I really hope this works.”

“I hope so, too,” his cousin replied, stepping back to marvel at the ‘roe-man-tick’ sight. 

“Maybe after my and Rinea’s wedding, I can help you impress Celica,” he smirked. It was Alm’s turn to blush bright red at the thought of the young Zofian princess. 

Taking a clump full of hay, Alm tried walking backwards out of the stable, clicking his tongue to coax the stallion outside. Being an intellectual, however, Embarr opted to stay behind with the much bigger clump on the ground. In the meantime, Berkut was looking back and forth from his own body to Embarr’s right below him. “Something doesn’t feel quite right,” he said aloud. “Did we miss something?”

Alm tossed the clump to the ground and circled back. “Oh forget it. Let’s just do it the easy way.”

“Alm, I think we’re miss-”

“Hee-yah!” Alm delivered a swift smack to the steed’s rear, adding another smack right after for good measure.

“-ing the saddle- Ahhhh!” Berkut yelled, clinging on to the stallion’s neck for dear life as Embarr burst through the stable doors to the outside fields in a top-speed… trot. (Alm’s early-day double lions weren’t as strong as he thought.)

Alm hurried after the pair in a panic, staring as the chaos unfolded. Embarr running loops around the field, his cousin’s terrified cries ringing through the air. Massena pausing in his routine walk down to the stable to take Embarr out for a mid-morning walk, looking bewildered. The fearful shrieks of both his and Berkut’s mother, who had been bringing guests of the castle for a tour of the grounds, like good hostesses. Clair and her family looking on nervously. In the far distance, he spotted his father and Grandpapa galloping over to aid his hysterical cousin.

Within seconds, the chaos subsided. Massena whistled and calmly waved at his companion, who gradually slowed to a walk and halted right next his master. Berkut, seemingly losing the strength in his arms, slid from his pincer grip around the stallion’s neck to the ground, still crying. Alm’s aunt hurried over to Berkut, cooing and wiping away the boy’s tears. Clair walked over and jabbed a finger at Alm, exclaiming, “What in the name of the gods were you thinking, Alm?”

“Clair!” her mother admonished. Alm’s own mother looked at him just as sternly. He had a feeling he would be losing his play time for a long, long time. 

His father and Grandpapa made their way over. “Massena,” Rudolf nodded to his old friend. “Please lead your mount back to the stable. Mycen, would you be as kind to take mine and yours back as well?” He turned to look down at Alm. “And why don’t you explain what exactly happened when we arrive back at the castle?”

Duma seemed merciful that day, as Berkut had sustained no injuries throughout the ordeal, save for a year’s worth of trauma. He was quite fortunate too, that Rinea and his family had arrived later than expected, so he did not suffer complete and utter humiliation; just a moderate amount from the group that did witness his botched attempts at looking roe-man-tic. 

Berkut spent the remainder of the day holed up in his room, lounging in bed, and occasionally shuddering at the thought of wind whipping in his hair and an out of control black blur tossing him around. He also pointedly ignored Alm’s knocking, pleas, and apologies on the other side of the door. Though for now it seemed to have stopped.

Another knock, this time a little lighter than Alm’s banging. “Berkut, is everything alright?” A familiar, higher voice called out to him. One that he very much missed hearing.

“Rinea?” he called back. “Is that you?”

“Yeah. May I come in? I think I might have something that will help you feel better.”

Berkut nodded his head, then felt foolish. _'Of course she can’t see that, you dolt.’_ “Yes, you can come in.”

The door opened to reveal a smiling, pretty girl, adorned with her usual flower hairpins. Rinea flounced into the room, hands behind her back. Alm stood back, hovering in the doorway.

Rinea brought her hands forward, brandishing a small stick. “Tada! I’ve been watching my aunt do magic, she’s a really cool cleric!” She beamed. “She always uses a stick and waves it around to make people feel better, but I couldn’t find a pretty one so I picked this up from the ground. She twirled it around, then paused to observe Berkut. “Do you feel any better?” She asked shyly.

Berkut’s mind was still running a thousand paces per minute in terror, but he grinned widely. “Much better. Thank you.”

“Yay, I’m glad,” she cheered. “I wouldn’t want you to miss out on tonight. It’ll be so fun. I also was… looking forward to maybe dancing with you?”

His heart started thumping rapidly again, this time in giddy excitement rather than fear. “Yes, let’s dance.”

Rinea smiled and waved. “Okay, see you downstairs.”

The young prince remained sitting on the bed, grinning to himself. Deeming himself safe, Alm made his way over to his cousin, sitting on the edge of the mattress. “So…” he drawled out, smirking. “Where is the wedding gonna be?”

Berkut paused for a moment to think, and then replied “Atop your funeral, maybe,” and reached over to punch Alm in the shoulder.


End file.
